In the Talons of the Big Bird
by I.C. Weener
Summary: A Tomb Raider takes a trip to the Underworld.


" _He must have been someone of great importance… Or he did something very naughty."_

\- The Mummy

* * *

THE KING WOULD HAVE BEEN A WASTE OF TIME. Any archeologist worth their salt knew his tomb had already been picked clean by grave robbers at least a century ago. But only a handful knew about his daughter, and Lara was one of them.

A few cracks in the floor and an explosive charge were all she needed to reveal the secret undercroft. She quickly stepped forward and hopped through the broken rubble, using the exposed bronze rods in the ancient construction as balance beams as she gymnastically descended into the forgotten chamber below.

She landed in darkness and tossed a flare across the sand-swept floor. The first thing she saw was the massive statue looming over her. Its head had crumbled away at some point in the intervening 5,000 years. Its once extravagant wings were worn down to nubs. It took Lara a moment to even realize it was supposed to be a carved falcon.

The wall closest to her was lined with a row of large crystal sculptures shaped like bowls, or lidless canopic jars. The rim of each one was carved with a band of hieroglyphs. They were partially worn away and in a cuneiform too old for Lara to completely recognize, but she was able to loosely translate the inscriptions as "Fountain of the Lamb."

A closer translation would have been "Meat Curing Stable."

Lara knew she was moments away from making the discovery of the millennium. From her careful research, she knew Pharaohs' daughters came in all shapes and flavors. There were the kind ones. There were the brash and violent ones. There were the brave ones.

This one had been a bit snobby. Stubborn as a beetle, the manuscripts said, and notorious throughout the land for always getting what she wanted. Lara couldn't imagine what kind of riches the spoiled brat had brought with her into the afterlife after she tragically perished in a sandstorm when she was still in her teens. The king probably left his precious daughter with more riches in her tomb than in his. Lara just needed to find the right switch that opened the secret vault in the wall, or a hidden button that revealed the stairs to the treasury in the floor.

As she walked closer, she realized the falcon's carved claws were perched on an altar. She shuffled through her belt and pulled out an ornate stone tablet. She had deciphered the artifact's name as "Guide to the Heavens" in her studies. She didn't know the accurate translation was "Transfer License."

Just as she expected, however, she found a small flat indentation in the side of the table. She slipped the tablet into the spot and pushed on its face, spreading her fingers and placing her palm into an impression that was only meant for a narrow and feminine hand like hers. The tablet sank in and triggered a switch.

The panels that formed the top of the altar were pulled apart by an ancient iron chain. A pedestal rose up from the clockwork hidden inside the table.

And there it rest before Lara's eyes. The mythical artifact that was doubted to even exist. The thing she had spent the past three months tracking down was finally within her reach: The sandal of Itekuyet. The legends said this was the key to the path of immortality. In modern terms, she knew it would lead her to a secret royal cache filed with fortune and glory.

A confident smirk crossed lips as her eyes sparkled like gold coins. She delicately lifted the sandal in her hands without a second thought.

The pressure plate on the pedestal moved. The entire chamber groaned with ancient mechanical life. One of her "Lamb Fountains" swung through the air on a bronze lever and sealed over her like a giant translucent egg.

A cloud of dust billowed through the inside of the cell as an ancient and powerful Egyptian curse was unleashed on her. Glittering specks of jade, quartz, and ancient bacteria burned through her pores. Millions of microscopic glass daggers slashed at her eyes. Clouds of moldy sediment and disease filled her lungs. The veins in her skin became black rivers as ancient pathogens swept through her body.

She threw herself against the shell, pounding her fists against the burning crystal walls in misery. She grabbed the sides of her head and screamed over her relentless coughing. She could feel invisible hooks reaching through her nostrils and scraping her mind away in layers, turning it all to rancid sawdust.

Lara slowly lost her grip on consciousness and let her hands slip down the smooth crystal wall. She collapsed to the bottom of the shell and went silent, disappearing into the thick salt and lime mist.

The dust slowly cleared as fresh air was filtered through the prison. The device was lifted away on its lever and returned with the other clear bowls.

The treasure hunter was crouched on one knee with her head held low and the knuckles of one hand tucked against the floor. Her skin returned to its normal healthy pigment as her blood settled with unnatural speed. She remained silent and motionless as the vapor disappeared around her. She knelt like a machine sent from the future in the form of a woman, or a dark priestess sent from the past to assume a woman's form.

Itekuyet slowly rose to her feet and opened her eyes. They flickered like discs of petrified amber in the dark.

She held her arms forward and studied her hands, saying something in an obscure antiquated language. She had never seen her hands with such fair and fine skin before. Nor had she ever seen anything like the fingerless leather gloves bound around them.

She lightly cupped her palms over her strange brown top to get a simple feel for the size and shape of her breasts. Grander than she was used to, but still suitable for her tastes. The entire outfit stuck to her like wet camel hide and pressed the boundaries of comfort, but it still felt like she was wearing dark brown silk compared to the constant restrictive cling of mummy wrappings. Her arms, legs, and belly were left completely free.

She looked down at her shorts, curious to see what the gods had given her in terms of a lotus patch. She struggled with her belt for half a minute before she figured out it worked the same way as a latch on a jewelry box. She got the belt open, unclasped the button at the front, and struggled some more with understanding how the zipper was used. Finally she was able to master the strange invention.

She pulled the loose flaps of her shorts and the elastic band underneath out by only an inch or two so she could get a small peek at herself. She murmured something in a tone that said she was somewhat disappointed and somewhat impressed, then quickly pulled the zipper back up and set herself back in order.

Itekuyet inspected her climbing gear with innocent curiosity. She was especially intrigued when she withdrew the double pistols hanging from her belt. She turned the weapons in her hands and cautiously aimed them toward the ground. With a little experimenting, she figured out how to use the triggers and fired a single shot of dual rounds into the floor.

She flinched back at the noise. Shaking her head, she tossed both pistols to the dusty floor and left her holsters empty. She preferred to fend for herself with the more otherworldly weapons she gained in her centuries-long journey through death. She waved her fingers, and a thousand locusts buzzed somewhere in the distance.

She offered one brief glance toward her old sandal strewn on the floor, before snickering under her breath. It was meaningless to her. It probably wouldn't even fit her anymore, and it wouldn't be as useful as the climbing boots that bound her feet now.

Besides, she was leaving here with a much more valuable treasure in her possession.

Itekuyet casually pulled on the back of her shorts to stretch out a couple of wrinkles hugging her rear. She walked toward the same hole in the ceiling her host body had used to enter the chamber, moving with a subtle asp-like swing in her gait. She lifted herself up to the floor above and returned to the World of the Sun, determined to make it her own.

* * *

 _Author's note: Lara's been on my character backlog for a while. The general outline for this story has always been "Thing She Tries To Get Turns Out To Not Go Too Good For Her." I never made up my mind if the consequences would be she gets melted/fossilized, she gets mutated into a critter, or she gets possessed. And I was stuck on if I should make it be a solo mission, or have her bring along friends who get shot up when she starts going a little crazy. Having her do the Cryptkeeper Boogie seemed like the best route when I started thinking about it again._

 _I blame EnjiNight._


End file.
